Teresa of the Faint Smile, Adventures of a Stringy Bosmer Options

[D.Foxy]

If that is what you did to Destri, I pray you may not do worse to me.

You know, it DOES get better the second time around.

[Olen]

I second Destri's comments on Morcant. She's a great character, eccentric, knowledgeable, and a good baker: everything a mentor/ wise woman should be.

"I guess these do not travel well."

It did puzzle me that they never break in game, so it's another nice addition to add that bit of depth. Having worked with modern day glassware I can confirm it does break and, on occasion, explode.

I wonder what enchentment she will get...

[Remko]

Yeah, I liked that too. The fragility of the Alembic and Calcinator is exactly the reason Rales leaves his at home

[SubRosa]

Remko: Looks like h.e.r. and Destri covered all the bases concerning Raven. Something that is also of interest is that the valkyrja were said to wear coats of crows feathers, and were sometimes called krakeit, meaning "crows".


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. I am thinking that the Ayleids were Tamriel's preeminent necromancers, putting it to far more practical use than any other society ever has. They are also a big reason for necromancy still be reviled, and for why many Imperials are suspicious of magic in general.

Destri was not quite blackguard you were thinking of though, as we will be meeting Morcant's actual b/f in a few posts.


Destri Melarg: I hope you are not too saddened by Destri's death. I needed a name, and you know how I hate to come up with those. Even Morcant is just the Welsh spelling of Morgan. I am hoping that by using a name that readers are familiar with, it will help make the death of the bandits seem a bit more tragic, and reinforce that they were people. However, we will see his son in the future (and already have on the other forum). He did not wear Teresa's new armor though, he just made it. Otherwise it would never fit a stringy wood elf like her!

I did my best to take the ES lore about the Earthbones and use it as the foundation for a core-shamanic religion, and at the same time define what a Witch actually is in ES. It seems to fit together rather well. I am thinking that only the Bosmer of Valenwood still follow it, and even there it is probably coming to be seen as something for backwater hicks, due to the influence of both the Imperials and Altmer.

The varla stones are part of the way I am reimagining magic and especially enchanting working. I always thought it was strange that varla and welkynd stones would be destroyed after one use. How would there be any left after thousands of years? The way I am working it, when a magician enchants an item they create the symbol for the magical effect within the item, then transfer their magicka into it to power it. Basically the same thing they do when casting a spell. This way enchanting is all about the individual's skill and power, not simply pushing dials on an altar. Nor do you have to steal the souls of animals or people and then destroy them to make your magic items (something I always found abhorrent).

A varla stone would simply be an extra battery to use to put more magicka into an enchantment. But I do not see a person being able to use more than one at a time. Since they regenerate their store of magicka on their own, there would not be much need for a person to have more than one. For that matter, they are not really of any use unless you are enchanting.

Actually, I had forgotten all about your TES star sign being the Thief! How appropriate!


D.Foxy: Oh you never know, I might make you a courtesan!


Olen: Thank you Olen. I tried to make Morcant someone you could believe was was a shaman for 60 some years. Someone living on the edge of society, who often does not have much use for people. But being a person herself, does indeed need the company of others from time to time.


* * *

Chapter 8e - The Witch of Lake Trasimene


Teresa spent the rest of the day and night with the Witch, unrolling her bedroll across the woman's floor to sleep upon. Once again her dreams were haunted by the rotting faces of zombies and leering skulls of skeletons.

She woke to Morcant's hand gently touching her shoulder, and given the dark circles under the other elf's eyes, she could see that she was not the only one having trouble sleeping.

"Bad dreams?" the other woman asked as she made tea for the both of them.

"Yes, of Vilverin," Teresa shivered. "I guess I just can't get it out of my head."

"That is good then," Morcant remarked casually as she mixed together the hot drinks, "that you are having nightmares I mean."

"You have a strange idea of good!" Teresa exclaimed as she rose and stretched. She longed for a leisurely soak in the lake. But the smell of the Witch's steaming green tea led her to the table instead.

"When your clothes are stained, you wash them until the dirt finally comes out." Morcant said as she sat down in front of a cup of tea and set another aside for Teresa. "Nightmares are your mind's way of doing the laundry. The more you have the dreams, the more the stain on the memory comes out. Until it is finally gone."

"Well then, do you have any soap I could pour between my ears?" Teresa murmured as she sipped the tea. It was hot and bitter, but not too much of each. Rather just enough to warm her and put a savory taste in her mouth. "The sooner my laundry is done the better…"

After finishing their morning tea and munching on leftover cinnamon rolls, both women went out to the lake to wash. Teresa went exploring the countryside around the lake afterward, while Morcant went to work enchanting her new armor. After spending most of the day in the sun, Teresa came back to the cottage with her face as red as a lobster.

"What happened to you!" the older woman exclaimed upon seeing the crimson-skinned Bosmer.

"The sun," the forester grumbled as she sat at the table and helped herself to one of the few remaining rolls. "My skin's so pale, this always happens. It's one of the reasons I usually sleep during the day."

"Well I can keep that from happening with a simple cream," Morcant said, producing a mortar and pestle made of marble. "Let me show you how to make it. You only need rice bran, then add some jasmine, and a touch of aloe vera."

The Witch mixed it all together into a thick, creamy paste that smelled simply wonderful. Smearing it over Teresa's burned skin, she scraped the remainder into a small jar. "You can make it without the aloe, but I always add it because it is good for the skin. Besides, it reminds me of where I grew up. The jasmine gives it that lovely scent, but it too heals your skin."

"Thank you," Teresa said, feeling a little stunned. Using the cream would certainly be better than having to cast her healing spell all the time when she was out in the sun. "So where did you grow up?"

"The Gold Coast," the Witch said as she cleaned her mortar and pestle and put them away. "Anvil actually. But that was a long time ago. Aloe vera grows all over the county."

"I thought you were from Valenwood, or some other foresty place?" Teresa could not help but to exclaim.

"Oh no, I was born and raised in the city, just like you I suspect." The Witch began chopping carrots for their dinner, and Teresa moved beside her to help. "I was about the same age you are now when I discovered the forest."

"Do you ever miss it, Anvil I mean?" Teresa asked. She found herself thinking of Simplicia. What was the old woman doing now? Probably out begging for coins from the last wave of shoppers in the Market District, the wood elf thought. She had given the woman enough money to last for several weeks, but old habits die hard, and Simplicia was a creature of habit above all else.

"Miss the city? not at all," Morcant said as she started the fire with a burst of flame from her hand. "My mother, sometimes. I still go back to see her. My daughter… Well that's complicated. Do you miss your family?"

"I don't have a family," Teresa replied as she moved on to chopping celery. "Never did. You have a daughter though?"

"Like I said, that's complicated." the other woman replied darkly. She would not speak again as they prepared the meal, and Teresa did not press it further. It was obviously something that the other woman did not want to talk about.

The next morning the two of them sat outside the cottage, looking across the lake as the sun turned its waters a brilliant shade of gold. Neither spoke, but this time not from awkwardness. It was simply a scene too beautiful to break with talking. Only when the sun was high in the sky did either woman speak.

"This is such a lovely place." Teresa breathed. "I could turn into a morning person for this."

The Witch laughed, "the Imperials think it is haunted."

"Because you live here?" the younger elf said with a faint smile and twinkle in her eye.

"Oh hush!" The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe that too…" She rose and walked to the edge of the water, and pointed to the far, southern shore. "This is Lake Trasimene, and that river that flows out of it way over there is the Sanguineto, going down over the falls to Lake Nemi."

Teresa stared at the other woman blankly. "I grew up on the streets," she said as she rose and actually stepped into the water herself. "None of that means anything to me."

"Sprouts, never any sense of history," the older woman sighed. "Sanguineto means 'River of Blood'. Back in the First Age, an Ayleid army led by Handril ambushed an Alessian army twice its size here and annihilated it. The round-ears were marching along the eastern shore of the lake just over there." The Witch pointed to the opposite shore of the lake. "They were heading for Belda, over the ridge behind us. They had no idea that Handril was waiting for them. His army came down from the hills above and trapped them against the water's edge. Fifty thousand Nords and Imperials, all slaughtered. The river ran red with blood for three days, and it's said their spirits still haunt this lake."

"Do they?" Teresa found herself eyeing the water around her suspiciously. Was that something she saw moving under the surface, near her feet?

"Don't be silly!" the other woman stepped into the lake beside Teresa and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "That was a long time ago. Their spirits have long since moved on and been reborn. Many times over by now. It's the goblins across the lake you have to watch for. The Bone Eater tribe lives in a cave over there."

"Do they ever bother you?" Teresa wondered, gazing across the lake. Nothing but peaceful, forested hills rose from the water to greet her eyes. Still, she remembered her encounter with the goblins in the sewers, and shivered in spite of herself.

"They did at first, but not anymore," the Witch said with a smile, walking back to the shore. "Contrary to popular opinion, even goblins learn."

Teresa found no signs of goblins during her day's foraging however. Something she was very thankful for. When she returned to the cottage, she drew her copy of Varieties of Daedra from her sack of loot and began reading. That pulled the Witch's interest away from a copper ring that she was hunched over and brought her to the forester's side.

"You did not strike me as a conjurer," Morcant asked. "You know, there are creatures of this world that can be summoned to aid you instead, such as the wolf and bear."

"Oh I don't know the first thing about summoning," Teresa quickly explained over the pages of the tome. "I found this in Vilverin. Lately everyone has been warning me about Daedra, and with the news about Kvatch… Well, it seems like a good idea to learn whatever I can in case I ever run into one."

"Smart girl," the other woman said, laying a hand on the forester's shoulder. "Learn all you can, it might save your life."

When Morcant later showed Teresa how to bake bread from cornmeal, the forester remarked that she would need to buy some of the Witch's food for the rest of her journey. The older elf looked at her with eyebrows arched.

"There is plenty of food out there," Morcant said nodding at the forest outside the window, "just live off the land."

Feeling a familiar warmth spreading through her cheeks, Teresa stared down at the yellow powder on her fingers. "Where I come from, that means looking through refuse piles for things other people threw away."

"My, you are a green sprout, are you not?" The other woman shook her head. "Tomorrow I will go out with you and show you what plants are safe to eat, and which ones are not."

"You don't have to do that," Teresa mumbled. "You've done enough for me already."

"Nonsense," the older woman retorted. "It will do me good to get out and stretch my legs a bit."

So the next day the two of them traveled around the lakes, Morcant pointing out the berries, leaves, nuts, and roots that were edible. She was even quicker to point out the ones that were not, such as poison ivy and yew. "If the berries are white, take flight," was just the first of many little phrases she had Teresa memorize as they stalked the land.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 12 2010, 05:17 PM

[D.Foxy]

Ewww!!! I had better not annoy you, then!!!

Besides I don't look good in high heels, and bras tickle...

I do remember learning about how to use Aloe Vera as an emergency skin cream...

And as always, a finely crafted post. Kudos to Sub Rosa!!!

[haute ecole rider]

Ahh, another wonderful post, with beautiful country, a dark history, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I see Teresa is beginning to understand the phrase knowledge is power.

I had thought the exact same thing when you mentioned Sanguineto - River of Blood. Sanguine is Latin for blood, for those who didn't know. In Spanish it's Sangre, and there is a mountain range in Northern New Mexico near Taos called Sangre de Cristo. There is history behind that name, as well. That's the cool thing about traveling - learning the history of different places, and I think Teresa is discovering the joy of it.

More, please.

[Olen]

Good update and more rounding of Morcant, she's a city gal is she? Interesting. And with family, that's a nice touch, usually shamen types have no roots but she has a mother and a daughter. It certainly makes her more interesting.

Still didn't get to find out what enchantment she got...

On the magic side of things I like your take on it, I too wondered how the stones could survive so long if they were destroyed through use, having the varla stone as a sort of reusable selfcharing soul gem is a brilliant idea. You clearly have a clear idea of how it works in the story and I'm interested to see more. I might even steal some of the ideas for the piece I'm working on

The only thing which read a little oddly to me was "She was even quicker to point out the ones that were not, such as poison ivy and yew". I'd always seen Cyrodiil as being old world but that's probably just my bias and it took me a moment to remember what poison ivy is (given that in the context of eating regular ivy is also poisonous). Having said that they do have tomatoes which aren't old world so my point is largly meaningless (I'm sure there was one before I tryed to put it to screen).

Anyway great stuff, as ever.

I needed a name, and you know how I hate to come up with those.

I'm guessing you know it but if not Tamriel Rebuilt have a reasonable ES (morrowind mainly) based name gen. I certianly use it.

[Destri Melarg]

Once again you amaze me with the way that you can borrow from another source and blend it seamlessly into Tamrielic lore. The account of Handril sounds like it could have occurred during the Alessian revolt. Sanguineto seems to fit the Dark Brotherhood’s version of the word, as opposed to the Daedric Prince who gets off on seeing naked Countesses.

I feel the cool shade of foreshadowing in Morcant’s reluctance to talk about her daughter. Let’s see, Wood elf from Anvil with a great appreciation and affinity for nature. Can it be?

The summoning of wolves and bears fits Teresa’s character like tight leather armor. Please, please, please let Morcant teach her that little trick.

As a side note: We could start a pool, I for one would pay good money to see a courtesan named Foxy sometime in the future!

[Acadian]

I just read 8b,c,d,e. This is very, very rich and interesting to read. It is also well spun and crafted. Simply marvelous! I expect Teresa shall be shaman of her own goblin tribe before long!

[Remko]

Oh, it was awesome if the witch turns out to be related to Teresa but somehow I think that's too obvious for SubRosa.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: I use aloe every day on my face, after I wash. It keeps my skin healthy, and looking younger than I really am.


haute ecole rider: Sanguineto is not actually an original name on my part. It is the real life stream that feeds Lake Trasimene in Italy.


Olen: We will learn what Teresa's armor is enchanted with when it is finished, at the end of the chapter. That should be about three more posts.

I have seen that name generator and tried it at one time. But it seems to only have the twenty or so names for each race, as I always find it spitting out the same ones over and over again. So I stopped using it. Instead I usually either look through race pages in the Wiki and look at the names of all the members in Oblivion or Morowind. Then I combine parts of different names to make something new. Or I just do a search on baby name sites for races like Nords and Bretons. The Imperials are easy, as I have a huge list of Roman names from my days of modding Rome Total War. I still hate coming up with names though. I am very picky about the ones I am willing to use.


Destri Melarg: I have always been a firm believer in working smart rather than working hard. Integrating real life history and cultures into ES is just my way of doing that. I first got the idea when I read Harry Turtledove's Misplaced Legion series. He was also prof of Byzantine history, and he actually created a fantasy world based off of the Byzantine Empire, just changing things to suit a sword and sorcery setting. Because he was drawing from an extremely well documented IRL source, he was able to make his fantasy world come alive with incredible detail.

I always have wondered why the Daedric Prince of hedonism is called Sanguine, but I guess names like Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt were already taken...

You are completely off base with the idea of Alawen being Morcant's daughter though. Her daughter is actually a priestess, but I doubt if Teresa will ever learn much about her, as it is not a subject Morcant likes to bring up.

You are right that the summoning of animals would be right up Teresa's alley. However, even summoning a regular wolf would be far beyond her magical abilities. She would have to stop learning and practicing things like alchemy and fighting and forestry and simply concentrate on learning summoning for a few years before she could do that. Perhaps sometime far in her future she might do that. But probably not for a few decades.

However, that does not mean she could not use scrolls... Or perhaps learn to summon something much weaker, such as a bird perhaps?


Acadian: The Faint Smile Tribe? Goblin Teresa's Cave? Funny you should mention goblins though, as Teresa will be running into some next chapter.


Remko: Afraid not. Morcant is in no way related to Teresa.


* * *

Chapter 8f - The Witch of Lake Trasimene


The sun was lowering on the horizon when they returned to the cottage on the shores of Lake Trasimene. They heard the growling of a wolf before they saw the structure. Teresa drew an arrow from her bag even as the Witch raised her hand to drop the glowing disc of a Shield spell around her frame. So prepared, the two exited the trees and came upon an odd sight.

Tsume was standing in front of the cottage, fangs bared and snarling. Before him was a man, an Imperial by his dark hair and olive skin. He wore a full suit of leather armor, and a strung longbow was in his left hand. An axe was tucked into his belt next to his arrowbag, and a small, round shield sat beside a dagger at his other hip. His right hand was empty however, and he held it with open palm facing the wolf.

"Now just settle down you bag of fleas," the Imperial said in a tone that was soft and gentle, belying the meaning of his words. "I'm just here to see our lady-friend."

"See her you will," Morcant sang out, setting a hand on Teresa arm and gently pushing her bow to the ground. "Just turn around Attius."

Then the Witch was stepping quickly across the open space, and a moment later she was wrapping her arms around the Imperial. Teresa tried not to look, and instead took her time unstringing her bow. When she finally raised her gaze the pair had drawn apart, and she saw that a familiar dragon was emblazoned across the man's cuirass. He was Imperial Legion.

"Can you do something about that beast of yours?" the Imperial muttered, casting a glance at Tsume, who was still growling and baring his teeth. "I swear he is going to attack me one of these days."

"Tsume!" The Witch turned her gaze to the wolf. "You know better than that. Attius is a friend." The wolf did not look convinced, but he did slink away into the trees, pausing once to stare back with a look that could scarcely be darker. If he had not been an animal, Teresa would have sworn that he was jealous.

"Speaking of friends, this is Teresa," the Witch now turned to the young wood elf. The forester could not believe the sparkle that she saw in the older woman's eyes, or the brightness in her smile. It was almost as if the auburn-haired woman was walking on air.

"Evening ma'am," it was the same, respectful greeting that Teresa was coming to expect whenever she met a legionary these days. So different from how they had treated her in the first eighteen years of her life.

"Greetings Attius," Teresa said, forcing a faint smile to her lips as she walked over to the pair. Now she saw that flakes of grey flecked the Imperial's hair, and more than one line etched his weathered features. "So you two know one another?"

For a moment Teresa thought she heard Morcant giggle. No, she decided, the world would come to an end before the older woman would do that. Yet Teresa could not fail to notice how the Witch's arm clung to the Imperial's back, nor how his was firmly planted around her waist.

"In more ways than one," Morcant laughed. Drawing away from the man, she took both of his hands in her own and tugged him toward the cottage. "Come in, we can all have dinner together."

Teresa was fumbling to find an excuse to leave the two of them alone when she noticed that the legionary resisted. Standing his ground, he looked at the older wood elf with a frown.

"I cannot." His sigh was as leaden as the downward cast to his eyes. "I have orders for Bruma. I do not know for how long. I only stopped to say goodbye."

Teresa saw the Witch's expression fall. She could tell it was not simply disappointment in the other woman's eyes. Rather it was an empty look of despair. Her hand gripped tightly enough on the Imperial's arm for Teresa to hear the leather of his armor creak under her fingers.

"Don't go," she hissed, stepping closer to stare in his eyes. "Just don't."

"You know I can't do that." The man reached out a hand to cup her cheek. "I will probably be late as it is. It was only pure chance that I met up with another ranger coming up from the Valus Mountains and found out that we've all been ordered away. That vision you had about bandits being around Lake Poppad was completely off. There was nothing but some goblins and a few Vaermina worshippers."

The young wood elf heard the other woman curse then. A moment later the Witch reached into her skirts and drew forth the same copper ring that Teresa had seen before. Pulling the leather gauntlet from the Imperial's hand, she pushed the band over one of his fingers.

"Wear this," she breathed, "don't take it off!"

"Of course my love," the other man smiled, and a moment later he was leaning down to kiss Morcant. Teresa turned to look away, feeling more uncomfortable than a pickpocket in a watchtower.

The next thing she knew, the Imperial was jogging away into the sunset. Morcant just stood there watching until he disappeared into the woods, her arms wrapped tightly about her frame, as if to ward off a chill. Except of course that it was quite warm. Teresa stepped up beside the Witch and followed her gaze.

"I'm sure he'll be alright," she said in what she hoped was an encouraging tone.

"No he won't," the other woman said darkly, "I've seen it."

"You could be wrong," Teresa said quietly, laying a hand on the older elf's shoulder. "He said himself that your vision about the bandits was wrong."

"There never was a vision about bandits," the other woman sighed, her shoulders falling under Teresa's fingers.

"But then why did…" Teresa's words died on her lips as understanding dawned upon her. The Witch had lied to Attius, so that he would not find out about his new orders. Teresa did not know what to say. So she just stood there with the other woman, and hoped that her simple presence would at least lend some support.

The Witch remained standing there as time dragged by, eyes staring up at the ridge overhead. Eventually Teresa thought she saw the shape of a man outlined against the red sky. He stood there for long moments, as if staring back down into the valley below. Then he turned and vanished over the horizon.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 20 2010, 09:46 PM

[haute ecole rider]

What a beautiful scene between Attius and Morcant! Makes the chick's heart buried somewhere in me go pitter-patter! Bittersweet!

As for names, I feel the same as you. Ugh, coming up with names for new characters has been a real pain!

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: May 14 2010, 06:20 PM

[Remko]

That was heartbreakingly wonderful. I felt for Morcant. Impending doom for her lover... ooohh noes....

[Olen]

Morcant continues to become a more intreguing character... a dark section too, I'd even go so far as to say rather nasty. I develops another side to things, I'm interested to see what Teresa does now.

he brightness in her smile. ... walking on air. <snip> His sigh was as leaden as the downward cast ... Witch's expression fall. -- I like the change of word coice and rapid shift in atmosphere as she discovers that he's headed to Bruma. Nice mirroring of earlier phrases, it really developed a grim feel.

I want to know what happens next...

[Destri Melarg]

Teresa saw the Witch’s expression fall. She could tell that it was not simply disappointment in the other woman’s eyes. Rather it was an empty look of despair. Her hand gripped tightly enough on the Imperial’s arm for Teresa to hear the leather of his armor creak under her fingers.

This is an excellent example of ‘playing the subtext’. Morcant’s broken heart is apparent in every line that follows this paragraph, but it isn’t until the end of the chapter that you give us the reason behind it. It is obvious that, as a writer, you understand the importance of what isn’t said.

And that last paragraph was both poignant and beautiful.

[D.Foxy]

Beauty sings in every line.

Once again, Kudos.

[minque]

Rosie! Pure beauty in this....I'm kinda speechless....mmm but I'm enjoying every word of this magnificent story!

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: That is pretty much an obligatory scene in nearly every war movie. It was nice to do it done from the opposite point of view than normal. I also felt it was important to show it, as that scene underscores the very personal cost that the Crisis has on the ordinary people of Cyrodiil (I hope!).

My big problems with names are that I am too anal to just take any one at random. It has to be perfect.


Remko: Thank you Remko.


Olen: Thank you Olen. This was meant to both give Morcant more depth, and to build more on the events of the ongoing Oblivion Crisis. We will be seeing much more darkness in this coming post...


Destri Melarg: Morcant can be a difficult character to write, because she keeps her feelings buried deep, and does not like to give away much about herself. So the only way I can reveal her motivations and feelings are by what she does not say, rather than what she does. Good practice for me though.


D.Foxy: Aww shucks...


minque: Thank you minque. I was heavily channeling my estrogen with that scene...


All: The following is the Celtic Cross, probably the most widely used tarot spread today. Because of that it has many variations. I am using the version I learned over twenty years ago, which is not very common these days. So do not be surprised if it looks different from what you may be used to seeing.


* * *

Chapter 8g - The Witch of Lake Trasimene

With that Morcant finally turned away. "Something is coming Teresa," she murmured as she stepped to the cottage. "A dark and terrible fire."

"Maybe that was just Kvatch you saw." Teresa followed the other woman. "There is good news now. There is a new Emperor! The legion is marching to join him."

"Kvatch was just the beginning," the other woman said grimly as she walked inside and sat by the fire. "Things are going to get worse, much worse."

Teresa felt her heart lurch at the other woman's words. She sounded so certain, as if it had already happened. Yet Teresa remembered what she had seen during her flight with the ravens. Julian of Anvil, Jauffre, and Martin Septim. She knew Baurus was somewhere out there as well. So were the legionaries she had met on the road, and the rest of the army. All were coming together to fight this strange menace. Things were changing now, weren't they?

"How can you be so sure?" Teresa asked, sitting down beside the Witch.

"Do you really want to see?" the other woman asked. Her voice sounded tired, as if she had not slept in days. Yet she rose and stepped to her bed. Kneeling down beside it, she drew forth a small chest from underneath the rattan mattress suspended between its pine timbers. A yellow light burst from her fingers as she ran them across the cask, and Teresa heard a lock click open. Raising the lid, the Witch lifted a stack of large cards from within, and turned to look at the young wood elf.

"I will show you, if you like." The older elf moved back to the hearth, and sat on the thick carpet before its crackling flames. Teresa nodded, and sat down across from her. Her heart quickened its pace as she stared at the wide sheets of pasteboard in the other woman's fingers. Their backs were painted with intricate knotwork designs, continuously wrapping around themselves with seemingly no beginning or ending.

The auburn-haired Bosmer closed her eyes and shuffled. When finally she seemed satisfied with her work, she opened her eyes again and set them upon Teresa. Laying the cards down in front of the young wood elf, the Witch spoke in a soft voice. "Cut them, as many times as you like, and think of the question you want answered."

Teresa had seen plenty of fortune-tellers in the Market District. Some used cards like these, others threw rocks or bones, some read palms, and even a few read tea leaves. She had never imagined that any were more than charlatans, always affecting strange accents and wearing outlandish clothing to get attention.

Yet Morcant was entirely different. She was plainly not trying to impress or fascinate Teresa. Her demeanor was no different from a laborer doing his work. Plain, economical, and to the point. Was Morcant the real thing then? Teresa wondered. Well if the Witch was, then she should take it seriously, shouldn't she?

Teresa breathed deep and closed her eyes. What is ahead of me? she wondered.

Reaching out with one hand, she took up the deck and let the cards gently slip through her fingers. Trying not to think about what she was doing, she instead let her intuition tell her when it was time to stop the cards from dropping and set aside the portion she was handling. Doing this, she divided the deck into three smaller stacks, before finally rearranging them all back into one.

Without saying a word, Morcant took the deck back into her hands and peeled off the top-most card, laying it down between the two of them. It pictured a young man wearing a garish outfit, striding headlong toward a cliff. His head was held high and a smile was etched across his face. Plainly he could not see the steep drop right in front of his feet.

"This surrounds you," Morcant now said quietly. "The Fool."

Teresa felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked away from the cards. Was the entire world determined to make her feel like an idiot!

"This is not necessarily a bad card," the other woman explained. "In fact, it often marks the beginning of many great deeds. It is only by forging ahead without flinching at the consequences that one can make a lasting effect upon the world."

The Witch laid another card across the first. This one showed the figure of a man wearing a black cape, his head cast down in defeat. Three overturned cups lay before him, their liquid spread across the ground. Yet behind him stood two more cups, upright and still filled with their precious contents.

"This crosses you," the Witch intoned. Her voice seemed far away, as if she were speaking from across a great distance. "You see only your shortcomings and failures, but not your strengths and accomplishments. No wonder you never smile."

Teresa squirmed as Morcant continued, laying another card on the floor above where the previous two sat. This one showed a man seated upon a throne and wearing a resplendent robe. A crown sat upon his white hair, and his eyes shone like beacons. A great red gem glowed from an amulet upon his chest, and the head of a dragon sat under his opened palm.

"This is above you, the Emperor," Morcant said. For a moment the Witch frowned, then went on. "Usually the cards are not meant to be taken literally. Seeing the Emperor does not necessarily mean the actual Emperor of Tamriel himself. Rather it means a strong figure of authority, a father-figure. Being above you, this man is always on your mind. A guiding star in your life."

Teresa stared at the card laying on the carpet. She knew that this card was indeed meant to be taken literally. Even now she could see the Emperor's face, feel his blue eyes filling her with their warmth. She swallowed hard around the lump that always formed in her throat when she thought of him. You are not going to cry, she told herself. Make him proud of you.

Seemingly oblivious to Teresa's stare, the Witch laid another card on the floor, this one beneath the other three. It showed a man hanging from one ankle. Yet a smile was on his face, and a glow seemed to emanate from his features.

"This is beneath you," the older Bosmer explained as Teresa winced at the sight. "The Hanged Man. This is not a bad card at all. Look closely. He should be miserable where he is, yet he is not troubled at all. In fact he is smiling, and he even has one leg crossed behind the other. He is having no problems at all. This is a card that reveals the ability to face adversity and prevail. No matter how bad things are, you take it all in stride. When you put this with The Fool, it becomes an especially powerful combination. Someone who can walk off a cliff, and still land on their feet."

Now Teresa squirmed again. Was this really supposed to be about her?

The Witch set down another card, this one to the right of the first pair. Now Teresa could see that she was creating a cross around those first two cards. This new card showed a youthful man holding a sword in his hand, eyes looking in the distance.

"This is before you," the Witch said, "The Page of Swords. An apprentice in the art of war, one who strives to learn and overcome. This is you indeed, my young warrior, who battles necromancers with no thought to the consequences."

Now Morcant laid a card to the other side of the first pair, completing the cross. This one showed a pair of ragged and destitute people, one shoeless and the other on crutches. Both were hobbling past the stained glass window of a chapel, which showed five pentacles etched upon its surface.

"This is behind you," the Witch said, "the Five of Coins. You are of the proletariat, the poorest of the poor, with not a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. Look, you even pass by the warm light of the temple. Even in spirituality have you been destitute."

Teresa nodded, that was certainly her alright. She had never had two coins to rub together for her entire life.

"These cards represent you," the Witch explained, waving a hand over the cards. "They are your basic nature, where you have come from, what you are thinking, and where you are going. Now we will see the outside forces that shape your fate."

Then the Witch quickly laid down four more cards, face down in a long line to the right of the cross formed by the first six. Her hand went to the bottom-most card and flipped it over.

"This aids you," she said, looking down upon the figure of an armored man astride a charging horse. He held a sword aloft in his hand, and his mouth was open in a battle-cry. "The Knight of Swords. This may not be an actual knight mind you. But certainly a military man, a soldier or mercenary. A powerful fighter, who will be at your side when you need him most."

Morcant flipped up the next card, revealing the figure of a man with warped features and a pair of horns growing from his forehead. A huge dog sat at his feet, lost souls dripping from its opened jaws. A naked man and woman flanked the horrific pair, shackled in chains that led to the hand of the horned man.

"The Daedric Prince," the Witch hissed. "This comes unbidden. Normally this card means things such as slavery, or addictions to drugs like skooma. Forces that constrain or pervert the hearts of mortals. Yet I believe we should take this literally. The Daedra are coming, and you cannot escape the effect they will have upon your life. This card has been in every reading I have done for the past two months."

Teresa shivered, staring at the horned figure. "The Daedra did it they say!" The voice of the carter at Urasek echoed in her mind. The words of the guardsman from Chorrol pursued them. "…people disappearing, and legionaries turning up dead on the road, torn to pieces. It's the Daedra they say!"

The Witch turned over the third card in the line. It showed a tower being struck by lightning and bursting into fragments. People fell from the wreckage, plummeting to the ground below with looks of terror etched upon their faces.

"The Tower. This answers your question." The Witch sighed and looked up to Teresa. "I won't lie to you. This is the worst card there is. Absolute calamity, disaster, destruction. A nightmare is waiting for you."

Morcant lowered her gaze to the last card, finally turning it over. It was of a skeletal knight riding a horse with glowing red eyes. Kings and paupers alike lay dead at his feet, and the sun was setting behind the cliffs in the background.

"This ends it, Death," the Witch murmured. Then her voice picked up a bit. "This card is never to be taken literally, not even now. Instead it means an ending. The end of a phase in your life. The end of an era. Nothing will ever be the same again."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 20 2010, 09:50 PM

[haute ecole rider]

And so we come to the end of the Third Era.

This is good - I'm not much for fortune-telling - it's mostly telling folks what they want to hear ("you will meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger --"), but every now and then there's the real thing. Once in the bluest of a blue moon, if you ask me.

This has the ring of the real thing. Well written! Excellent job with the foreshadowing.

[Jacki Dice]

Nice use of the tarot cards! It's a great way to foreshadow the story